


baby it's cold outside

by RossKL



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22071649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RossKL/pseuds/RossKL
Summary: Just another fluffy Christmas fic: cuddles by the fire!Written for Yougavemeastocking.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51
Collections: You Gave Me A Stocking 2019





	baby it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talesofsuspense](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesofsuspense/gifts).



> If you're looking for plot, you're in the wrong place. However, there are cuddles!
> 
> Thank you [cullenlovesmen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/handersmyheart/pseuds/cullenlovesmen) for betaing. <3
> 
> Happy holidays, talesofsuspense.

It’s the coldest night of the year.

Tony is pretty sure he’s never going to feel warm again. Biting gusts threaten to whisk Tony’s wool hat off his head in the short trip from his office to the car.

The minute he spends rushing to his car manages to freeze Tony deep to the bone, and he spends the whole drive to the Tower shivering and shifting. Not even the pre-heated seats and warm AC can stop the tremors in his body.

Tony swears under his breath. If he’s going to spend Christmas Day with a cold – or worse, a _fever_ – he’s never going to forgive the stupid weather.

He grumpily looks out of the windows as he waits for the traffic light to turn green. The streets are full of people trying to squeeze in some last-minute gift shopping. New York City has never been more alive.

It’s Christmas’ Eve, it’s barely 4pm, and unlike his past self, Tony wishes he was home.

When he was a kid, he didn’t like Christmas. Usually, festivities meant extra time with his father, where Howard would show how profound his disinterest in Tony was. They’re some of Tony’s worst memories.

Now, though… Now, Tony can’t wait to get back to the Tower, to Steve, to his dysfunctional colleagues-slash-friends-slash-family that could probably kill him in his sleep, but never do.

If someone had told him this would be his life one day, Tony would have laughed his ass off.

Now he just drives home with the lightest heart, actually looking forward to seeing what the others prepared for tonight’s big dinner – _apparently, those are a thing_.

***

The trip to the main living room is quick.

The Tower temperature is not high enough to warm Tony up, so he rushes to the elevator and doesn’t even take a detour to his bedroom to lose the jacket first.

When he gets to the living room, he all but sprints to the lit-up fireplace. He groans when he gets close enough, fingers almost brushing the flames and face heating up with warmth.

“Save those sounds for your bedroom!” Clint yells from the kitchen, and someone behind Tony chuckles.

Tony knows that laugh. A full-body shiver rushes through him – and he blames the cold _entirely_ , thank you very much.

Not moving from the fireplace, Tony turns around. As imagined, Steve is sitting on the couch. He’s smiling at him, has a book in his hands, a blanket on his legs, and there are two cups of steaming hot chocolate on the table next to him. “Welcome back, honey,” Steve says, still smiling.

Tony's heart clenches a little. _This_. This is what he’s been looking for, all his life. To come home to someone waiting for him on Christmas’ Eve, happy to see him again, not resenting him for his sole existence.

“Hi, babe,” Tony murmurs, softly. His face must speak volumes, because Steve closes the book, takes the blanket in his hands, and walks over to Tony.

“Take your coat off, come on,” he says. At Tony’s pout, Steve smiles again. “You’ll warm up sooner, I promise. I’ll help you,” he offers, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated gesture. The proposal loses the innuendo as Steve wiggles the blanket as well, and Tony laughs.

“You’re such a huge dork, Rogers,” he mutters. He does stand up, though, shivering again, and loses his coat quickly and throws it on the chair next to the sofa. “Happy now?”

“Very,” Steve says. He wraps the blanket all around Tony, then he and Tony-the-living-burrito sit on the floor, right in front of the fireplace.

Tony hums happily, leaning on Steve’s shoulder as he untangles his hands and puts them near the fire. Steve brings his hand around Tony and holds him closer, and it takes Tony less than two seconds before turning on his side and looking at Steve.

“It’s _that_ cold outside, isn’t it?” Steve asks, gently.

Tony nods. Steve’s face is so close. Tony traces his moles with his fingers, a familiar gesture, and it’s all he can do before leaning in and kissing him.

Even after two years, he still marvels at how soft Steve’s mouth is. Kissing him is probably Tony’s favorite activity, ever. 

Tony is barely aware that there are gagging noises and grumbling coming from the kitchen. He’s too busy getting distracted by Steve’s tongue and getting lost in his mouth to care.

Seconds or minutes of pure bliss pass, the kiss has shifted to small little pecks all over their mouths, and Tony feels giddy with happiness. He feels like a teenager.

He feels lucky.

“I love you,” Tony whispers between kisses.

Steve holds him tighter. The next kiss lingers a little longer, before Steve breaks it to whisper, “I love you too.”

Tony feels his warm breath on his face, and the last piece of tension leaves him with a shiver. The air smells like fire, like cinnamon, like eggnog. It smells like Steve.

It smells like home.


End file.
